DAN WICKETT INTERVIEWS PERCIVAL EVERETT FROM THE EMMERGING WRITERS FORUM

The following is an interview with Percival Everett, author of fifteen published books (2 short story collections, a novella, and 12 novels) as well as two more to come in the next twelve months (a short story collection and a novel).  He lives on a small farm just west of Los Angeles, with his wife Francessa, two step-children, and a bevy of animals.  He is currently a professor at the University of Southern California.

“I watch television.  Of course I also closely examine my dogs’ shit to make sure they don’t have worms.”

Dan:

Thank you very much for taking the time to do this interview – I know they are not one of your favorite things to do.

Percival:

Sure thing.

Dan:

Your book jackets list a great deal of past endeavors in terms of work – sheep-ranch hand, musician, and teacher among them.  Obviously writing falls onto that list as well.  You also recently published an excellent essay in the March/April 2003 issue of Speakeasy regarding just how difficult writing a novel is – claiming it to be the hardest work you’ve ever done.  Of all of the jobs or working you’ve done in your past, which have you enjoyed the most, and why? Which have you enjoyed the least, and why?

Percival:

I didn’t much like castrating bulls.

Dan:

No explanation needed there.  The saxophone appears frequently throughout your work.  As stated above you’ve worked as a musician, but I believe I’ve read somewhere that you play piano.  Is there a reason you’ve chosen to infuse your work with the music of the saxophone more often than piano (which is includedwonderfully via Bud Powell in “Suder.”)?

Percival:

I play guitar.  I used to be fairly good.  I’m a sloppy pianist.

Dan:

Your first novel, “Suder,” is filled with almost over the top humor.  You didn’t really go that far again until your novella, “Grand Canyon, Inc.” (and at times “God’s Country”) and at times the work in between has been referred to as terse.  Do you believe that those who would make such comments are missing out on a great deal of funny material within those other works? There seems to be very subtle, and dark humor throughout all of your work – even “Cutting Lisa” has some laugh out loud writing.

Percival:

Some things are funny, some things aren’t.  I don’t try to be funny; that never works. The saddest and most serious things are often best exposed and explored with humor.  Humor is a sneaky thing.

Dan:

Your second novel, “Walk Me to the Distance,” led to a made for television movie titled “Follow Your Heart.” Did you have any involvement with that movie (beyond selling them the film rights to your novel)?  Did you watch it?  If so, what were your thoughts as to the way they were true to the vision you had when you wrote the book?

Percival:

I haven’t watched it all the way through.  It sucks. But it’s not my movie.  Instead of having a veteran of the War in Vietnam, NBC made the main character a tortured returnee from the ‘conflict’ in Panama.  You get the idea.

Dan:

Have any of your other works been optioned for film? Are any in the works as far as you know?

Percival:

Yes.  Nothing’s coming soon.

Dan:

Through the actions, and even some comments, of your characters, I gather you are not a big fan of television in general?

Percival:

I watch television.  Of course I also closely examine my dogs’ shit to make sure they don’t have worms.

Dan:

Your third novel, “Cutting Lisa,” is a taut, thrilling read.  Many of your novels fall into the 160 to 200 page range.  This makes them very easy to read in a single sitting (as does the writing and stories themselves).  Is this at all a thought in your head while you’re writing them, or do you just write until the story is done?

Percival:

Novels are as long as they need to be.  Any longer and it’s just padding or, worse, a writer falling in love with her or his own voice.  I like economy.

Dan:

You then published “Weather and Women Treat Me Fair,” a collection of short stories.  When you are working on a novel, and an idea for a short story comes to you, what do you do?  Set the novel aside and write the story?  Jot the shell of an idea for the story down somewhere and return to it later?

Percival:

Stories happen.

Dan:

The next book, “Zulus,” is commonly lumped into the category of Science Fiction, even getting you an author page on some SF Internet sites.  I found it to be more apocalyptic than science fiction – it reminded me of novels like Paul Auster’s “In the Country of Last Things,” and Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale.”  While there isn’t always a great deal of happiness in the lives of your characters, this novel takes that to an extreme.  Is your view of our future really that bleak?

Percival:

Yes.  But I don’t consider it bleak.  The planet will continue on.

Dan:

In “Zulus,” unless it is spoken in dialogue, the protagonists’ name is always read as Alice Achitophel and never just Alice.  Did you have a reason for this?

Percival:

Yes.

Dan:

Okay.  That brings up the question of character names – do you feel that they need to have any specific meaning?   Where do you come up with names for your characters?

Percival:

Sometimes names can do some work.  Sometimes I’m just having fun.

Dan:

You allow your love of animals to show up in your work – there’s an elephant named Renoir in “Suder,” sheep and horses in “Walk Me to the Distance,” and more horses and a mule in some of the other western based novels you’ve written.  You also have horses in the photo on “Zulus” and your mule (Thelonius Monk) on the jacket photo for “Glyph.”  What sort of animals do you currently have on your farm?  Do they all have names of artists of some sort?  What is it about animals that you enjoy sharing your time with?

Percival:

We have mules, horses, donkeys, dogs and a cat. My crow flew the coop. I like them because they are smartest people I know.

Dan:

I imagine having so many large animals keeps you very busy on your property – cleaning up after them, upkeep of stables and that sort of thing?

Percival:

Yep.

Dan:

My wife will hate seeing this question, as I’m sure she’s explained it to me before, but what exactly is the difference between a mule and a donkey?

Percival:

A mule is the offspring of a male donkey and a female horse.

Dan:

Do you prefer one breed of horse over the rest, and if so, why?

Percival:

I prefer mules because they’re as smart as dogs.

Dan:

Do you think it is your propensity to laborious work as well as writing that has led you to include having a kink in the shoulder of so many of your characters? Through my reading of your work, characters such as Alice Achitophel (“Zulus”), Mr. Lowe (“Walk Me to the Distance”), Lucien Bradley (short story ‘Wash’ from “Big Picture”), and others all feel, or try to work out kinks in their shoulder.

Percival:

Ouch.

Dan:

Your next work was “For Her Dark Skin,” a re-working of the story of Medea.  A little less than a decade later you would produce “Frenzy,” a re-telling of the story of Dionysos.  Was it at all your hope that your readers might be led towards reading more of the source material after reading your versions?  Or perhaps was this a way for you to share what you love with an interest of your wife (a Professor of Ancient History at UC Riverside)?

Percival:

The shared interest is a bonus.  I had these novels planned for a long time.

Dan:

After this body of work, you churned out “The One That Got Away,” a children’s book.  What inspired you to write a book for children?  Did you know the illustrator, Dirk Zimmer, prior to working on the book?  Were you happy with his illustrations for your words?

Percival:

Babysitting.  Dirk Zimmer’s illustrations make the book.

Dan:

What has been described as your absurdist western, “God’s Country,” was published next.  Though there were a couple of references to race in “Suder,” and the story of Medea via “For Her Dark Skin” also touches upon it, “God’s Country” is the first of your works that seems to have a higher level of concentration in regards to race, and how members of a race view those of other races differently.  As a Black author, you have the expectation thrown at you that within your work, the element of race will be prevalent.  You’ve commented in the past that being a Black male in America has obviously helped influence your art.  You’ve also noticed that a White writer like a John Updike has obviously had his views formed by being a White male in America, but his work isn’t commented upon as such.  Did you intentionally avoid race as a topic in your earlier work to bring this issue to a front?

Percival:

Race comes up where it does.  I don’t wake up thinking about it.  And I hope you don’t.  Black people don’t sit around their dinner tables defining themselves in terms of white people, no matter how much George Bush and the Republican Guard or good liberals want tothink they do.

Dan:

In “God’s Country,” you create some words to show the dialect that is being spoken by Curt Marder, the buffoonish White protagonist.  An example is his version of suicide, being sewercide.  What are your thoughts on using such dialect in your writing? Should an author use such dialogue and creative spelling for all words that such a character would butcher, or just on occasion, to remind the reader of the manner the character is speaking?

Percival:

Whatever works.

Dan:

In 1996/97, you had three books published by Graywolf Press.  The short story collection “Big Picture,” and the novels “Frenzy,” and “Watershed.”  These were followed up by your 1999 novel “Glyph,” also published by Graywolf Press.  I believe that this was the first time since your second and third books that you were published by the same publisher more than once.  Do you consider yourself an author a publisher would have a difficult time working with?

Percival:

My first three books were with the same editor.  I’ve have done six with another.  I follow editors, not publishing houses.  I love literature and want to make my work good.  Editors can help with that, not presses.

Dan:

One of the stories in “Big Picture” was published in Callaloo as ‘Bull Does Nothing.’  In the story collection, you changed the name to ‘Turned Out.’ What caused the change in name?

Percival:

I liked the second one better.

Dan:

I was surprised to see how few of the stories (only three of the nine) had been previously published in literary journals.  Do you not send your stories out for individual publication, or do you have a large pile of rejection notices floating around (the hazard of the writing life)?

Percival:

I send stories out when some one asks for it.

Dan:

One of the themes that pops up frequently in “Big Picture,” that follows up on similar ideas in earlier novels such as “Suder,” “Zulus” and “Walk Me to the Distance,” is that of self-discovery.  Many of your characters go through a journey of sorts to gain this. Do you believe that you yourself are going through any self-discovery through your writings?

Percival:

I hope so.  If not I might as well quit.

Dan:

Does your early studying of Philosophy affect your writing?

Percival:

Of course.

Dan:

Somewhere around this time, you began having a book titled “The Body of Martin Aguilera” credited to you. While I’ve been able to find an ISBN number for the title – I have not been able to find proof of any copies in existence, nor any reviews.  Did this book actually get published?

Percival:

The book was published by Owl Creek Press.  Same press and editor as For Her Dark Skin.

Dan:

“Watershed,” the story of a hydrologist getting involved in a struggle over Native American Treaty rights has you going back and forth between the protagonists current life, his recent love life, his youth, and various tracts from actual Native American Treaties.  It is remarkably well blended – the various sections regarding Robert Hawke’s youth helping to explain why he would get involved, etc.  Did you write this book in the manner that it appears, or did you write the different aspects of his life separately and then choose how the blend the story?

Percival:

I don’t remember.  Wouldn’t tell you if I did.

Dan:

I also understand that you did a self-imposed studying of hydrology in order to properly get into Robert’s head.  How important do you feel such research is, and do you find yourself ever falling into enjoying the research a little too much, and not getting back to the writing?

Percival:

Research is everything.  You have to know enough to make it seem you didn’t have to do research.

Dan:

Robert is also a fly-fisherman.  He makes his own flies, as does a character in one of the short stories in “Big Picture.”  Is this something that you enjoy in your spare time?

Percival:

Yes.

Dan:

“Glyph,” a wildly inventive novel seems to have both a main plot, and then many wanderings through the protagonist’s mind in terms of literary theory.  While the plot alone should hold the attention of a reader – did you at all worry that the theory deconstruction might lose readers to the point of not skipping up to the main story again?

Percival:

I don’t think about the reader.

Dan:

I’ve read that you still consider this your finest work.  Why is that?

Percival:

It’s closest to my sense of humor; it was easiest for me.  My finest?  That’s not for me to say.

Dan:

Next came your novella, “Grand Canyon, Inc.”  Did you intend this to be a novella when you sat down to write it?

Percival:

Yes.

Dan:

Around that same time, you had seven poems published in the Spring 2001 issue of Cyclops Press.  Has poetry been something you’ve been writing all along, or was this a one-shot?

Percival:

I can’t write a poem to save my life.  I wrote the anatomical poems for Glyph, because the character wrote them.  They’re political poems.

Dan:

Your latest novel, “Erasure,” has been highly praised, and probably brought more attention to your work than any other work.  Based on the work itself, how ironic (or just plain sad) is it to walk into a Borders or Barnes & Noble and find it within the African-American Fiction shelves?

Percival:

To be fair, Barnes and Noble hasn’t done that.  Still I won’t go into one because it’s a chain.  Borders should be ashamed.  But I really don’t think or care much about that.  I often don’t like the weather, but hey.

Dan:

In a similar question – how close were you to taking the Stagg R. Lee approach and accepting Doubleday’s offer to begin their African-American imprint (Harlem Moon) with “Erasure”?

Percival:

Close enough.  I couldn’t bring myself to harm the Hurston/Wright Foundation.

Dan:

While writing the novel, were you at all afraid that the story within the novel, ‘My Pafology,’ was done too well?  It really was a quick and good read.

Percival:

No.

Dan:

This novel also has you doing something for the first time – creating a character extremely similar to yourself.  A Black author frequently accused of not being black enough, one who has written novels based on Greek gods, etc.  It seems a really odd move for an author who has stayed in the shadows of his work for nearly twenty years now.  At any point did you consider drastically changing things to avoid this situation?

Percival:

One has to be awfully literal-minded to really confuse the character with me.  It’s a novel.

Dan:

During your writing career, you have also taught on the university level at various institutions.  Do you find that this stimulates your work?

Percival:

Yes.  Hey, I get paid to sit in a room with smart young people; what can be bad about that?

Dan:

I see that you will be a fiction instructor at the Hassayaupa Institute for Creative Writing this summer. How do you differ your teaching style when you only have somebody for three to seven days and not a full term?

Percival:

You don’t bust somebody up in a week.  I’m always taken by the fact that anyone chooses to attend a workshop instead of going to tennis camp or Club Med.

Dan:

What benefits do you see for yourself when you attend/teach at one of these writing conferences?

Percival:

I always learn something.

Dan:

Is there a reason you’re not much of a smiler in your jacket photos?

Percival:

Who’s not smiling?

Dan:

In his book on writing (“Narrative Design”), Madison Smartt Bell uses your story, “Hear That Long Train Moan.”  Have you read his comments and notes, and if so, what is your assessment of them?

Percival:

Yes.  Madison’s a smart guy.  I didn’t I meant half of what he attributes to me, but I’ll claim it.

Dan:

He felt the story was an allegory for both God’s creation of the world, and an author’s creation of his/her work.  Do you feel any sort of godlike nature in having the ability to successfully create a work such as the novels or stories you’ve written?

Percival:

No.  Why would I think about something like that?

Dan:

You also paint, and in some of the short stories in “Big Picture,” have a character named Michael who is an artist.  He goes through a meltdown when one of his paintings is to be sold, wishing to keep it for himself.  Do you see this as a drawback of sorts for artists who work in the form of sculpture and paint? In order to share their work, they have to relinquish it, as opposed to authors, or musicians, who can keep their work with them, while sharing it.

Percival:

No.  Paint is expensive.  I need to sell one (or all) to paint for more paint.

Dan:

What do your readers have to look forward to in the near future?

Percival:

A new novel and a new collection of stories in spring 2004.

Dan:

Finally, if you were a character in “Fahrenheit 451,” what work(s) would you memorize for posterity?

Percival:

Too many.  They’d have to burn me instead.

Dan:

Thank you so much for taking the time to answer these questions, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.

Percival:

Sure thing.